“No,” Stephen answered. “He’s disappeared. The MacGregors are looking for him and my men are always alert. We nearly lost you once and it won’t happen again. But no, so far there is no sign of Roger Chatworth.”
For a moment they stood quietly, looking at each other. A few months ago this man was her enemy, as were all men. With one step forward, she came close to him, reached up and put her hand to his cheek.
Stephen seemed to understand the full impact of the honor she was bestowing upon him. He caught her hand, kissed the palm. “We Montgomerys are heart-breakers,” he said with dancing eyes. “We’ll end this feud with love words instead of swords.”
She pulled away from him as if she were insulted, but her laughter escaped. “I will indeed pray for you. Now go before my Miles finds you and gives you a good thrashing.”
He lifted one eyebrow at that. “Poor little brother, when some woman decides she owns him.” With that he left her alone in the clearing.
Elizabeth sat alone for quite some time and now that she was listening carefully to the sounds around her, she could hear the MacArrans. There were still two men in the trees above her. Far off she could hear Kit’s laughter and Tam’s deep rumbling answer.
In the last months her senses had dulled greatly. Before her swam the angry face of Brian and she knew that once she, too, had felt such hatred. She hoped with all her being that Stephen would be able to take some of Brian’s hate away, or perhaps this Raine Montgomery could do it.
With a heavy heart, she returned to the ruins and the laughter of Kit. In a few days, she’d have Miles’s anger to deal with and that would take her mind off her problems.
Bronwyn returned to Larenston the next day and went first to her five-month-old son, Alexander. The child had a wet nurse as Bronwyn was too often away to feed him, but she made sure the boy knew who his mother was. As she was contentedly cuddling her son, Rab at her feet, Elizabeth told her about Brian and how Stephen had taken him to Raine.
For a moment, Bronwyn’s eyes flashed. “Damn him!” she muttered but calmed when Alex let out a yowl. “Hush, love,” she cooed. When Alexander was quiet, she looked back at Elizabeth. “I don’t like that he used you. He should have brought your brother here. Stephen forgets that Brian Chatworth released me from your brother’s clutches. I wouldn’t have harmed the boy.”
“I think Stephen was more concerned about Miles—that he might harm Brian.” Elizabeth leaned forward and caressed Alex’s silky head.
Bronwyn’s keen eyes missed nothing. “And when is your child due?” she asked evenly.
Elizabeth met Bronwyn’s eyes.
Bronwyn stood, carried her son to his cradle. “Morag told me you’ve had no flow since you’ve been here. You’ve not been ill?”
“Not at all. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me at first, but it didn’t take long to understand. Who have you told?”
“No one. Not even Stephen. Especially not Stephen. No doubt he’d want to celebrate. Are you planning to marry Miles?”
Elizabeth tucked the soft plaid around Alex’s feet. “He hasn’t asked me, but even if he did, there is more between us than marrying and having babies. Roger won’t give up merely because I become a Montgomery. He’d have to know I go of my own free will and that I wasn’t forced.”
“And would Miles have to force you?” Bronwyn asked quietly.
Elizabeth smiled. “You know as well as I that he’s forced me in nothing. But I don’t think Miles would like marriage to me. I’d demand fidelity from my husband and Miles Montgomery doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”
“I wouldn’t underestimate any of the Montgomery men,” Bronwyn answered. “They may seem to be an arrogant, inflexible lot but there’s more to them than pretty faces and virile bodies.”
“They are indeed that.” Elizabeth laughed as they left the room.
The next day Bronwyn returned to the hunt and it was while Elizabeth was being a helpless maiden in distress and Kit was saving her from a three-headed, fire-breathing dragon that Elizabeth suddenly stopped.
“Elizabeth!” Kit said impatiently, wooden sword brandished over his head.
She couldn’t explain what was wrong with her but chills were covering her body. “Miles,” she whispered. “Here!” she said to the woman holding Alex. “Take care of Kit.”
With that she tore toward the stairs, down and out into the courtyard. When she reached the stables, she had her hand on a saddle before Douglas was beside her.
“I can’t let you leave,” Douglas said, regret in his voice.
“Out of my way, you fool,” she spat at him. “Miles is in trouble and I’m going to him.”
Douglas didn’t waste time asking her how she knew this since no messenger had come from the hunting party, but he stepped out of the stables, gave three low whistles and in seconds two of his brothers were there.
Elizabeth wasn’t used to saddling her own horse and it was a slow process, but the men didn’t help her. Douglas checked the tightness of her cinch before catching her foot and practically tossing her into the saddle. Elizabeth didn’t even flinch when he touched her.
As they started off, Elizabeth gave no thought as to where she was going but cleared her mind, visualized Miles and set off at a frightening pace, Douglas, Jarl and Francis behind her. The four horses thundered down the narrow, steep-sided road out of Larenston, turned right and headed along the cliff.